


i spoke no words, no sound he made

by missveils (Missveils)



Series: Inquisitor Dáire Lavellan [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Animal Death, Dreams, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, POV Second Person, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, aka not reader pov, because hunting, lyrical second person, rated mature for hunting-related harm to animals to be sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:49:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23973310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missveils/pseuds/missveils
Summary: Two instances where Dáire Lavellan went hunting.One in Summer, one in Winter.One with Solas, one with his sister.One for deer, one for the Dread Wolf.(written in poetic 2nd person, not POV or reader 2nd person if that makes sense)
Relationships: Fen'Harel | Solas/Male Lavellan, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan/Solas
Series: Inquisitor Dáire Lavellan [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694902
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	i spoke no words, no sound he made

_**\- Summer -** _

“You have hunted before.” 

Solas does not turn to him, his eyes still fixed on the treeline, holding the bow tightly. The sun shines bright and blistering on the forest, and Dáire gives thanks that the trees are thick enough here to not be blinded by it. 

He is different when they hunt. The calm stance, the relaxed expression on his face, they turn tense and calculated. To Dáire he looks like one of the heroes in elven legends. He could see him in silver armor, shooting a golden arrow from his bow. 

“When I was younger. I used to enjoy it as a sport.”

“Before or after you were a soldier?”

“Maybe both at the same time.”

He releases an arrow into the trees, high up the canopy, and immediately heads into the trees. Dáire follows him, trying to hear the thump of a bird falling from a branch. It’s only when they get closer that he hears the deer collapsing. Solas’ arrow springs vertically from its neck.

Dáire studies the angle as he pulls it out.

“How…?”

“Shooting high means they will not expect the blow once it falls. And they will not know it came from you.”

He says it as if he is addressing a trainee soldier. Silence falls as he kneels to pick the arrow and the deer. He looks ancient when he hunts. 

Dáire’s throat is dry and he is not sure if it’s due to the hot summer day. 

“Have you heard the legend about Fen’Harel and the slow arrow?” he asks, to break the stillness, and crouches to help him with the task. 

“Yes. But I would like to hear you tell it.”

The night falls warm and clear. The forest is quiet, the veal roasts on the fire, and Solas tells him about the ancient ruins they have set camp on. 

They could just not return to Skyhold, thinks Dáire. They could wake up in the morning and walk to the next place of wonder Solas wished to show him. They could hunt their food, they could follow the hallas to a safe area. They could have a wooden cabin, a warm fire in winter, soft breezes in summer. And no more nobles, or demons, or templars…

“Are you falling asleep, vhenan?”

Dáire realizes he has probably dozed off for the last few minutes. He rests his head on Solas’ shoulder. 

“Take me to this place back in elvhenan,” he mutters as he sinks into dreams. “Show me the corridors and the balustrades. Show me the music and the light…”

That night Dáire dreamed of dancing in a moonlit ballroom. Of walking through gardens on cobblestones that glowed under his feet. Of hunting in sacred grounds, shooting golden arrows at the sky. 

_**\- Winter -** _

He used to hunt with his sister years ago, back when they lived with the clan. It was always a competition: no magic, no asking spirits for help, only bows and the forest. Ellara would practice on her own for days and usually win, bringing back several rabbits, a deer, and, once a bear. 

She offers to go hunting with him, just like old times. But Dáire can tell that she is not in for a competition. With her sleeping child wrapped to her chest and treading through the snow, she moves through the forest close to him. She does not sprint forward, she ignores the hare that crosses their way. 

She has not come to hunt. She is waiting for the wolf that follows him at the edge of his vision every time he wanders the forest. She has come not to hunt, but to kill. 

They walk in silence for hours, only broken by Ellara’s humming to the baby. 

As evening turned to dusk she falls behind, stalking a rabbit. No point in hunting if you don’t bring anything back. Dáire presses forward through the bare trees, with only the sound of his footsteps through the snow. 

Both his feet and his left arm are going numb, the sylvanwood arm made to hold a bow weighing him down. Still, he presses forward as the dark tree trunks and their long shadows meld together.

And create shapes on the edges of vision. 

Shadows that run as he sprints forward. 

And stops on his tracks as the silhouette of a black wolf stands between the trees, its form shimmering as if the snow is hot metal instead of ice. The wolf stands still like a statue, but Dáire knows all six eyes are fixed on him. 

He draws his bow, pointing an arrow at the wolf, who does not move. 

In what could be seconds or hours a silent conversation happens between the two. Between eyes, frozen breath and a shaking arrow tensed for the kill. 

A discussion that has been repeated for a year. Face to face, in the forest, in dreams. A conversation that, each time, brings Dáire closer to stretch his hand. 

To take a step towards him.

An arrow zips past his face and passes right through one of the wolf’s eyes, as the figure dissolves into smoke in the air. 

Dáire hears Ellara walk up and stand next to him. She spits on the snow. 

“Bastard.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Inquisitor Dáire lavellan belongs to @littlegumshoe (at Tumblr), Ellara Lavellan is my inquisitor redesigned as a non-inquisitor character =)


End file.
